


Role Reversal

by infectedscrew



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Date Night, Forgotten Date Night, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectedscrew/pseuds/infectedscrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually Dick is the one to forget something important but this time it's Tim.</p><p>(Note: May Not Be Continued)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Role Reversal

“Another late night, Master Timothy?”

The sudden deeply accented voice jerked Tim out of his thoughts. He really hadn’t expected it, not six hours into another intensive bout of Wayne Enterprise financial reports. Still he had enough grace to set his pen down and look up at the man who spoke.

“Hey Alfred. One of the board members decided to drop it all on me today.”

“I see,” he commented quietly, setting down a mug of tea. “And… Do you recall what today is?”

Tim frowned at the papers he had spread out over the dinning room table. He’d only taken up refuge at the Penthouse because the criminal underground hadn’t taken well to Mr. Drake-Wayne’s interest in stopping drug rings in Lower Gotham. Until Babs told him that bombs weren’t going to be a constant threat, he was stuck with Dick, Damian and Alfred in one of the many Wayne houses.

“It’s Friday, why?” He answered.

“Is there any reason this Friday is important?”

“I don’t think so.” There was a pause as Tim strained to understand why exactly Alfred was pushing Friday so much. “Stephanie and Cass are supposed to go to Hong Kong tomorrow.”

Alfred sniffed. “Yes, that is happening…”

An awkward silence dropped over the pair. It forced some shifting out of Tim. He had work to get done and he didn’t want it interrupted by pointed questions.

“Alfred… Is there something that I am missing?”

In an idle way, Alfred started to stack up Tim’s papers. His hands passed over the work in a very unobtrusive way that shouted, quite loudly, he was only doing it until Tim figured out what was wrong and he could continue on his way. When it took longer than a minute for Tim answer his own question, he cleared his throat.

“Something rather important, I’d imagine.”

“What would that be?”

Alfred sent him a very level look. “Do you know where Master Richard is this evening?”

“Sure, he’s at the White Iris for… Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’. I highly suggest you set your work aside, get freshened up and get down to that restaurant to offer a very convincing apology.”

Tim’s face blanched and he stood up. “Do you think he’ll still be there? I totally forgot it was today. Between work and–”

Alfred lifted a hand, stopping him. “Do not make these excuses to me. I have tolerated your recent need for silence, but I will not allow you to forget promises.”

Tim swallowed, ignoring the little stab of guilt that followed Alfred’s words. He’d preferred his isolation, constantly pushing obligations away to finish his own work and investigations. Being stuck at the Penthouse had forced him to interact with humans again.

Unfortunately, he’d been out of practice for awhile.

“Okay. Sorry, I’ll go.”

Alfred nodded. “I shall give you a ride.”

-/-

Dick had to fight to keep the smile on his face the sixth time the waiter came back to his table. “Just a little longer, I promise.”

The waiter’s mouth was pinched in annoyance. “Of course, sir,” he said, turning away again. It was a Friday night at one of Gotham’s most famous restaurants, to have one man occupying a table with no promise of buying anything was just another problem to deal with.

Feeling the irritation coming from the man in waves, Dick took a hurried sip of his fourth glass of wine.

Being stood up was never a nice thing to suffer through, but after a relationship with Barbara and having Bruce for a father it was something he was very much used to. They, like Tim, were busy people and sometimes lost track of time. Asking them to dinner was asking them to take time out of their very hectic schedules. He’d very much gotten used to dinner alone.

That didn’t make him feel any better.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed up from his table. He set down money for the waiter, a silent apology for taking up his time. It was going to be the biggest tip he got that night.

After tugging on his jacket, he headed outside.

“Dick!”

Dick paused, looking toward a very familiar, blue eyed face. “Hey Timmy,” he responded, voice lackluster even to himself.

“Dick, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget. I just…” Tim trailed off, disarmed by Dick’s smile.

“It’s okay, little brother. You were busy, I understand,” Dick reassured, passing his hand vaguely over Tim’s shoulder. “Maybe another time.”

“But Dick, I’m here now. We can still go,” Tim offered, taking a step closer to Dick.

Dick shook his head. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea since I took up two hours of their time. Don’t worry, we’ll do it again.”

Tim blinked, shifting his weight. “We can still do dinner tonight.”

Another head shake and Dick started to head toward his bike. “You seem busy tonight. Next time we’ll do dinner when you’re ready.” He swung his leg over the bike and tugged on his helmet. He shot a smile to Tim. “You can make the call for the next dinner. For now, Alfred is waiting in the car. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Right, no. Sorry.”

Dick shrugged, flipping the visor down. “Have a good night, Timmy.” He kick started the bike and peeled off.


End file.
